


Goodbye

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Angst, Pre-Canon, it is Sad Joey Hours, oh what? me? writing a sympathetic joey? what the hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 16:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: Friends will save your life.They sure will.They sure will.





	Goodbye

Buddy knocked quietly before letting himself in. The man sitting across the room had his head in his hands, elbows laying on the desk. The younger animator closed the door behind him, but stood close to it.

The uneasiness in the air was thick enough to be cut with a bread knife.

“Mr. Drew, -”

“You’re leaving.”

He sounded awful. The tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes hammered in the point further.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you.”

Saying Joey’s gaze was spent would have been an understatement: it was dark and shattered, as if the grey pieces of his irises were about to fall off. He felt… True. Not hidden behind the marvelous mask of the actor. He was raw, honest, and so, so very miserable.

Buddy only nodded slightly.

The older animator inhaled. He was shaking.

“Good.” he muttered, “Good. You’re skilled. This isn’t a place for you. Your friend, the writer… With the, the long curly hair, and glasses…”

“Dot?”

“Dorothy, yes. She’s going with you, isn’t she. Good. You’re good kids. You deserve better than… this.”

“I… No, I… Dot, Dot wants to stay.”

Joey paused in the middle of breathing, becoming perfectly still, not even making the smallest movement. The notion of someone willingly wanting to stay seemed so… unbelievable. Why would someone remain in hell when the light of day shines brightly from a door within their reach?

“She’ll leave.” he eventually murmured, shaking his head to shoo away the ridiculous concept, “She’ll have to leave, eventually.”

Buddy fiddled with his hands a little. 

“You can go.”

“I liked working here.”

Silence.

“Animating and so on, I liked it. I never thought… Never thought of it as something I would have enjoyed. But I’m glad you gave me this possibility.”

He smiled, softly: “Thank you, Mr. Drew.”

His boss looked up at him and stared. Eyes wide. Dumbfounded. The corners of his lips crept impercetibly up until they formed a small, wobbly, stupefied smile.

“Thank you?” he repeated barely above a breath.

With a broader smile, Buddy nodded: “Thank you.”

Joey gave a hairy chuckle. And then another.

His booming voice was so uncharacteristically quiet when he spoke again: “Did you… Ever think of starting something on your own?”

“Sometimes, I have.”

“Well, maybe you could try… A studio. An animation studio. You’re skilled, you like the job. Maybe go to some big names first, and then, then try on your own. Look up, look up the name Henry Stein. Read a bit about him. It’ll help out.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“And, if, if you can, and do you start a studio, convince Dorothy to come with you. You’re good kids, the two of you. Together you could make something big. Remember, Daniel, friends are everything. Friends will save your life.”

He looked at that older, miserable, destroyed face.

“And just… When you’re making decisions, just remember me. And don’t choose what I would choose. That’s good advice for… Everything, really.”

The hollow laugh that came after it remained suspended in the air.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Goodbye, then, Daniel.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Drew.”

The door clacked as it closed.

Joey’s small, lopsided smile stuck to his face as his eyes unfocused, spacing out in the silence.

Friends will save your life.

They sure will.

They sure will.

He did notice the man who entered, but didn’t move an inch. He let him approach the desk without haste, stalling only when millimetres away from it; only then did Joey’s grey eyes trail all the way up to meet the excessively clear irises sitting on Sammy’s face.

He snorted - his signature tooth-gapped smile trembled between his lips: “Why are you still here?” he asked.

The musician didn’t answer.

“You hate me.” Joey continued, “You can’t stand me. You’ve been hating me since the very start. You hate people like me. You can’t be sure of when they mean something and when they’re lying, can you now? And you’re famous. You’re Samuel Lawrence. Anywhere you go, doors open for you. Red carpets reach your feet from every direction. So why are you still here? In this dying god forsaken piece of shit hellscape?”

Sammy furrowed his eyebrows and hissed: “You make it very easy to pity you.”

The animator spit out all the air in his lungs in what was supposed to be a laugh. He forced it to keep going, rasping at his throat for any hint of merryment. It turned to wheezing soon enough, as Sammy put a hand on his back, rubbing it in wide circles.

His vision blurred.

Friends will save your life.

Joey laid his head on his folded arms and sobbed hard enough to shake his whole body.

Friends will save your life.

They sure will.

They sure will.

Maybe that’s why he felt like dying.


End file.
